


The Woman of Mordor: The Depths

by elainel96



Series: The Woman of Mordor [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Dark Character, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mystery, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 15:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4310289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elainel96/pseuds/elainel96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Part 3 of The Woman of Mordor] It's growing strong. He's consuming me. I am searching for something to hold on to, but I cannot risk hurting the person I need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Parlay

We left for Isengard once the sun had fully risen and centered in the sky. Legolas woke me and dragged me along, even finding a horse for me. We made our way safely out of the mysterious trees appeared outside Helm’s Deep that morning. The only remnants of the orcs that fled there were distant screams, which seemed as if they were coming from the soil, or the roots of the trees. From then on, our journey was safe.

The same trees – those from Fangorn – also appeared mysteriously close to Isengard. Murky water was knee deep all through the dale surrounding Isengard. I could not feel the forest anymore. The safeness and energy that I found so comfortable long ago no longer existed to me. As we neared the wall, I made out the figures of Merry and Pippin, whom I lost on the outskirts of Fangorn a while back.

“Ahaha!” Pippin saluted us with his mug.

Merry stood up, “Welcome, my lords to Isengard!”

“You young rascals! A merry hunt you’ve led us on and now we find you feasting - and smoking!” Gimli grumbled.

 “We are sitting on a field of victory enjoying a few well-earned comforts,” he took a bite of his sandwich, “The salted pork is particularly good.”

 “Salted pork...” Gimli looked at it hungrily.

“Hobbits!” Gandalf griped.

“We’re under orders from Treebeard who’s taken over management of Isengard,” Merry said. He jumped off the wall and made his way to my horse. “Pip thought you were dead. I told him it would take a lot more than twenty orcs to take you down.”

“Yes it would.” I pulled him up behind me on my horse; Pippin ran to Aragorn.

An ent walked towards us, “Hoooom, young master Gandalf, I’m glad you’ve come. Wood and water, stock and stone I can master, but there is a Wizard to manage here locked in his tower.” The others gazed at him in wonder, but I was quite acquainted with them.

“Show yourself!” Aragorn looked up at the tower.

“Be careful. Even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous.” Gandalf said. He looked to me. I raised my hood up over my hair.

“Well then let’s just have his head and be done with it,” Gimli grunted.

“No, we need him alive. We need him to talk.”

Saruman made his appearance, “You have fought many wars and slain many men Théoden King and made peace afterwards. Can we not take counsel together as we once did, my old friend? Can we not have peace you and I?”

“We shall have peace.” Théoden said. “We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there! We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows we shall have peace!”

“Gibbets and crows! Dotard! What do you want Gandalf Grahame? Let me guess, the key of Orthanc? Or perhaps the keys of Barad Dûr itself? Along with the crowns of the seven Kings and the rods of the Five Wizards!”

“Your treachery has already cost many lives. Thousands more are now at risk. But you could save them Saruman. You were deep in the enemy’s counsel,” Gandalf yelled.

“So you have come here for information. I have some for you.” He held up the palantir and looked into it. “Something festers in the heart of Middle Earth. Something that you have failed to see. But the great eye has seen it! Even now he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon. You are all going to die! But you know this don’t you Gandalf?

“You cannot think that this Ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. This exile, crept from the shadows will never be crowned King. Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those who are closest to him, those he professes to love! Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling before you sent him to his doom? The path that you have set him on can only lead to death.” He looked to me. “I know who you are, why do you attempt to hide from us? You will only grow stronger if you accept Sauron.”

I lowered my hood. “I have chosen my path.”

 “You will not resist his power for much longer.” He smirked at me. “You, Rávawendë, are not the one I speak to.”

Anger bubbled, but I pushed it down and raised my jaw.

“I’ve heard enough! Shoot him! Stick an arrow in his gob!”

Legolas reached for an arrow happily.

“No! Come down Saruman and your life will be spared!” Gandalf yelled.

“Save your pity and your mercy. I have no use for it!” He shot a bolt at Gandalf. A ring of fire spun around him, reaching far above his head before dissipating and revealing a calm Gandalf.

 “Saruman, your staff is broken,” Gandalf said calmly. Saruman’s staff burned in his hands and dropped to the ground in a pile of ash.

Grima appeared behind Saruman timidly.

 “Grima! You need not follow him! You were not always as you are now. You were once a man of Rohan. Come down.” Théoden yelled.

Grima turned and acted as if he were going to walk down. Saruman interrupted him, “A man of Rohan? What is the house of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and their brats roll on the floor with the dogs? The victory at Helms Deep does not belong to you Théoden Horse Master. You are a lesser son of greater sires!”

Théoden ignored him. “Grima, come down! Be free of him!”

“Free? He will never be free!”

“No!” Grim exclaimed.

Saruman turned around to Grima and slapped him to the ground. “Get down cur!”

“Saruman! You were deep in the enemy’s counsel. Tell us what you know!” Gandalf yelled.

“You withdraw your guard and I will tell you where your doom will be decided. I will not be held prisoner here!” Saruman yelled.

Grima rose up behind Saruman and grabbed him, he stabbed him in the back two times. I reached into his mind. “Grima, let go of Saruman!” I commanded him. He backed away against his control. An arrow flew into the air as he was backing up and hit him directly in the heart. Saruman fell from the tower and landed on the spike of a large wheel with a crunching sound. I grimaced and glared at Legolas for killing Grima needlessly.

 “Send word to all our allies and to every corner of Middle Earth that still stands free. The enemy moves against us. We need to know where he will strike.” Gandalf ordered. He gave me a look of disapproval.

The wheel turned, immersing Saruman in the water.

“The filth of Saruman is washing away. Trees will come back to live here. Young trees. Wild trees,” the tree ent said.

Pippin dismounted and picked up the palantir from the water. I raised my hood again.

 “Bless my bark!”

 “Peregrin Took. I’ll take that my lad! Quickly now!” Gandalf took the palantir from Pippin's hands, wrapping it in his robes so that he would not have to touch it. Merry glanced around me curiously.

“Are you ready?” I asked Merry as Gandalf led the way back to Rohan. He nodded and held on to me tightly.

*          *          *

I stood next to Gimli, beer in hand, waiting for the cue to start.

 “No pauses, no spills,” Éomer said, patting me on the back.

“And no regurgitation!” Gimli snorted.

“So, it’s a drinking game?” Legolas asked.

“Aye!” We all yelled.

“Last one standing wins!” Gimli stared at the elf challengingly.

 “Let’s drink to Victory! To Victory!” The men yelled. I cheered before chugging the beer in my hand.

“It has been a long time, and you are no less wild than the last time we met.” Éomer laughed.

“Yes, that is true, and you've gotten quite handsome in that time,” I winked at him teasingly.

“You've always been attractive,” he teased back. I could feel Legolas's glare boring into the back of my head. It was always so easy to bother him.

An innumerable amount of tankards passed before I even began feeling an effect.

“Heh heh heh heh,” Gimli growled indiscernibly. “It’s the dwarves that go swimming with little, hairy women.” He burped and downed another.

“I feel something.” Legolas stared at his fingers. Éomer and I raised an eyebrow. “A slight tingle in my fingers. I think it’s affecting me.” He looked concerned.

“Heh heh heh. What did I say? He can’t hold his liquor.” Gimli sat quietly for a moment before he fell off his chair.

Legolas stared at him for a moment. “Game over!”

I made my way to his side now and slid an arm around his waist. Nobody would notice us among the confusion and excitement. “Are you done with ale now?”

“Yes.” He grimaced. “I do not like it.”

“It’s bitter.” I took the full tankard from his hands and drank from it. I kissed him gently and left him there alone.

I walked around the pillar to see what the cheering was about. Merry and Pippin danced happily on top of a table, entertaining the men around them.

 “I bet I can drink more than you.” I threw an arm over Éomer’s shoulder, who was watching them as well.

He pulled me close to him. My chest nearly collided with his; our noses were nearly touching. “You're an elf. I know you can drink more than me. You already have.” He walked towards the table Merry and Pippin were dancing on with a last wink at me.

I downed my beer quickly, seeing Legolas walking my way. “You are not acting appropriate,” he snapped.

 “You are the only one bothered by my behavior.” I laughed. “Éomer is an old friend.” He glared at me. I was trying at his patience. He closed his eyes, collecting himself before looking at me again.

 “Just because Haldir died does not give you permission to act this way,” he said calmly.

 “Haldir dying does not have anything to do with my behavior.” I looked away from him.

 “I know you had feelings for him,” he glared at me again.

I turned to him. I struggled to control my anger. “And yet, I invited _you_ into my bed, not him. I did not have feelings for him. He was my mentor. He taught me how to fight with my dual long knives.” He flinched back. “You may believe I am behaving this way because I had some little crush on my mentor, but this is simply who I am.” I lost control slightly. He stepped away from me in fear. “Scared?” I smirked.

I chugged the rest of the beer in my hand and left without another word.

*          *          *

I sat alone in the cabin they had provided me. I was playing with my clean hair, braiding it in different ways. The others were still off drinking. I was so engulfed in my play that I did not notice Legolas walk in. Someone laid a hand on my shoulder I jumped and spun around, ready to strike. Legolas stood with his hands up in peace.

 “Have you come to yell at me more?” I sat down and continued my play.

He sighed and sat next to me. “I am sorry I got mad at you. I got Éowyn to give up your location. Ours is next door.”

He looked at me with those wide, beautiful blue eyes. I was tempted to push him on the bed and take him right then. “Don't look at me like that,” I said.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, slightly confused. “I should not have expected you to return my feelings for you. I won't bother you any further.” He stood and began to exit the room.

“I did not say that I do not have feelings for you,” I mumbled. He stopped in mid-step. “Just because I will not sleep with you does not mean I do not love you. I do not believe I will outlast this war. You deserve to have a long, happy life. Anyhow, I am older than your father.” I laughed.

 “I would be happy in the afterlife as well,” he whispered, fully understanding what my death would mean for him. “You're age does not matter.”

 “You do not deserve the pain of heartbreak,” I whispered, closing my eyes.

“I would not suffer needlessly.” He placed a finger under my chin and pulled me to face him.

 “I do not want to hurt you.” My strength wavered under his eyes.

 “And I do not want to be without you,” he whispered. “And you said you love me.”

I cursed quietly, realizing what I had said.

“I love you, Rávawendë.”

I felt all the strength I had left crumble. He moved in slowly and pressed his lips against mine sweetly. Our lips moved together slowly, he dragged his tongue across my bottom lip. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He pushed me back onto the bed pad slowly, lying next to me. Tears were falling from my eyes as I gave up trying to save him. He pulled away and wiped away my tears.

“Rávawendë, it is not your responsibility to save me, we are beyond the point of turning back now,” he whispered. He sat up with one more kiss on my cheek upon hearing footsteps. He rubbed my arm comfortingly as the others walked in.

“You are the only thing holding me here, Legolas. You are the only thing keeping me from letting go.”

“Let me keep you here,” he whispered against my lips, pushing me further on my back. He kissed down my chest and made his way between my legs. He pulled up my nightgown slowly. It was agonizing. I needed him to move faster. He kissed the inside of my thighs and suddenly buried his mouth between them. I arched my back and bit down on my hand to keep from moaning too loudly. His tongue flicked over me gently, pushing me close to edge. I had no idea where he learned this, but I was thanking every spirit on Middle-Earth for it.

It only took him minutes to finish me. I moaned loudly, feeling my legs numb and the feeling trickle down my spine. Then I moaned – loudly. Legolas laughed and slapped a hand over my mouth. I panted for breath. “Where did you learn that?”

He laughed timidly. “I – uh – asked Éomer for tips.”

I pushed him over and straddled his waist. “Remind me to thank him later.”

I grabbed his hands and pinned them behind his head. “Now, I want to show you what ecstasy feels like.” His eyes were huge; I felt him get hard immediately. “Hmm, do you like being dominated, Legolas?”

He swallowed hard and nodded.

“Good.” I pulled my belt from the side of the bed and tied his hands together. “I want you to be as loud as you want, _melamin._ ”

I pushed up his shirt and untied his trousers. I ran a hand along the bare, tender, pink skin. He gasped and shuddered. I licked the tip and took it in my mouth. “More, please,” he gasped.

I chuckled and swirled my tongue around the tip. He thrust his hips up, desperate for me to finish him. I opened my mouth and took as much of him as I could without gagging. I thanked the spirits again for how heavily endowed they had made Legolas. I sucked roughly and opened my throat to take all of him. He groaned and thrust into my mouth. I put two fingers in his mouth, letting him bite down to hold back his moans.

His abdomen tightened and he stopped thrusting. I sucked as he came, swallowing every last drop of his cum. I kept sucking after.

He slipped his hand from the belt somehow and grabbed a handful of my hair. “Stop, stop, stop,” he whispered.

I stopped and grinned at him.

He cursed and smiled at me tiredly. “That was too much at the end.”

“Sorry,” I whispered and kissed his neck.

“It was not bad.” He pulled the belt from the other wrist. “They are probably wondering I am.”

“I doubt as much. You are quite loud.” I pushed back his hair and kissed him gently as I laid down to sleep.


	2. The Palantir

**_I see you. You cannot hide from me any longer._ **

I awoke screaming, his voice was ringing in my ears deafeningly. I clutched at my head, rocking back and forth.

**_Kill them. Kill them all._ **

“Help! Gandalf help!” I could hear snippets of what was happening in the room next to mine. His voice always prevailed. An orange fire covered my vision. I could see it: the Eye.

**_You will fight for me. You will destroy them._ **

I felt a hand shaking me. I could not see the person past the flames. I did all I could in that moment to keep my sanity. I grabbed the dagger from my bedside and slashed it across my thigh. The pain forced me into reality. The flames dimmed from my vision and I could see Legolas standing over me, worried and shocked at what I had just done.

“His eye is on me,” I whispered hoarsely.

*          *          *

We stood in the main hall with Théoden. Sauron's voice had now dulled to a bearable roar in the back of my head. I pinched myself on the arm to maintain my concentration.

“There was no lie in Pippin’s eyes. A fool but an honest fool he remains,” Gandalf said to Théoden. “He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the Ring. We’ve been strangely fortunate. Pippin saw in the Palantir a glimpse of the enemy’s plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith.

“His defeat at Helm’s Deep showed our enemy one thing: He knows the Heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage still. Strength enough, perhaps, to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle Earth uniting under one banner. (cuts to Théoden) He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a King return to the throne of men. If the beacons of Gondor are lit Rohan must be ready for war.”

“Tell me! Why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?” Théoden asked.

“I will go!” Aragorn interrupted.

“No!” Gandalf ordered.

“They must be warned!”

“They will be,” he spoke to Aragorn in a whisper. “You must come to Minas Tirith by another road. Follow the river. Look to the black ships.”

He turned and spoke to Théoden again. “Understand this, things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith and I won’t be going alone,” he looked at Pippin. He walked to me. “You need to stay in the shadows. As long as you do not bring attention to yourself he will not be able to find you.”

I nodded.

Legolas led me from the hall when Gandalf left with Pippin.

*          *          *

“How do you feel?” Legolas slipped in my room.

“Exhausted,” I groaned. Sweat drenched my shirt and trousers. I was down to my final layer of clothing. “Miserable,” I added. A sharp, deep pain radiated through my pain and down my spine; every part of my body wanted to take the knife and slit his throat.

He slid the knife away from me, seeing me eyeing it.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “What time is it?”

“You slept nearly all yesterday and today; the sun set long ago.”

I groaned and rubbed my eyes. “The beacons have not been lit?”

“It will take Gandalf another day to reach Minas Tirith.” He brushed my hair back. “Is there anything I can do?”

I shook my head and rolled onto my stomach. He ran his fingers up and down my spine, relaxing my tight muscles. He pushed up the back of my shirt and rubbed between my shoulder blades. “When are we going to finish what we started two nights previous?”

“You have terrible timing, love.”

“Sorry,” he whispered. He pushed away my thick, sweaty hair and he kissed the back of my neck.

The door swung open, bringing in blinding light. “I brought supplies –” Éomer cut off. “I apologize, I should have knocked.”

“It’s fine,” I groaned.

He dropped the bucket and the bag he was holding. “They wanted to send someone who could handle you if you were agitated.”

I laughed caustically. “There is not a person here that could handle me if I was _agitated._ ”

He laughed. “I’ll leave you two alone,” he left the room with a wink.

“Men are vulgar.” He scowled.

“Yet, he gave you advice about sex.” I laughed. “Their lives are short. They live louder and faster, that is why I enjoyed living with Men for so long.”

“Rávawendë, have you had children?” he asked. “I know you sold your body to men.”

“I can’t,” I responded coldly.

He nodded. “I assumed so.” He kissed my cheek. “I’ll let you clean up.”

I sat up with a groan when he left and pulled the rag from the bucket of steaming water.

*          *          *

It wasn’t until  the next night when I made my way outside. I pulled on the dark, tight dress that Éomer gave me and brushed out my hair. It was in the style of Edoras, hugging tight to my waist, hips, and breasts, and arms, then falling loose to the ground. I believed Eomer chose it specifically for his own enjoyment, the dress making me look extremely feminine by cutting in a V at my breast.

I stood outside and watched the stars. The others were eating in the golden hall, telling by the noise. My food was delivered to me a while ago by Éomer. The pain in my head dulled to a slightly uncomfortable ache.

Legolas’s footsteps came up behind me. “Hello,” I said quietly.

“You’re up,” he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Your footsteps are more graceful than those of Men; I can’t hear Hobbits’; Dwarves stomp everywhere.”

“Mmm.” His hands skimmed the underside of my breasts. “I’ve missed you.”

“I give you one taste…” I smiled.

“Sorry,” he whispered. I grabbed his hands before he pulled away and guided them to squeeze my breasts. He nipped at my neck.

“They finished eating,” I pushed his hands back down as I heard the cheers of men ringing through the quiet night.

“Rhava! I have never seen such a sight! You almost look like a woman!” Éomer exclaimed.

“Aye, I fight like one too,” I replied boldly, turning to him as he stumbled along towards us. He was holding a pair of wooden swords. “Do you want to test me?” I asked.

“You read my mind.” He threw one of the swords to me.

“Well, come on then,” I said.

Legolas grabbed my waist. I prepared for an exhaustive lecture, but he kissed me instead. The whoops and hollers of the men broke us apart.

“Well, Rhava, are you settling down?” he asked me quietly as we made our way out to the open.

“If we survive,” I responded.

He grunted knowingly and readied his sword. “Well, come on then,” he repeated me.

“I’ll beat you wearing a dress,” I said as I readied myself. We stood further than our sword-lengths apart.

A man counted down. “GO!” he yelled.

Éomer went for the obvious attack, running at me and coming from above with his sword. I stepped to the side and caught his arm on my wooden blade. “I have six thousand years on you, darling.”

His blade came at me again. I blocked this one with more difficulty. We repeated this process until he was drenched with sweat. I admit he gave me a little bit of a fight. When I grew bored of blocking attacks, I finally took offense. I swiped him on the arm then held my sword at his neck in two speedy shots. “That’s how you do it, darling.”

I dropped my sword at his feet, picked up my skirt, and walked back towards my room. Aragorn, Gimli, and Merry had all joined the group watching. They cheered as I made my way back. Legolas smiled and rested an appropriately friendly hand on my lower back. The group dispersed, leaving only the remaining Fellowship and a few strangers.

Gimli walked past us as he made his way to his room. “Well, you two are getting friendly.”

Once his back turned to us, Legolas grabbed my waist and kissed me gently. Merry clapped and laughed.

“It’s amazing,” Legolas said as Gimli disappeared into the room without noticing the obvious display of affection.

Aragorn laughed and clapped Legolas on the back and walked to bed. The others followed. Legolas pulled me towards my room. “You are quite lively tonight.”

“I feel better.” I pushed him up against the closest wall and pushed his jacket off. “Amazing, actually.”

He gasped. I kissed down his chest and pulled away. I pushed the dress off my shoulders and shimmied it off my waist. He bit his lip and looked up and down my body. “I don’t want to go too far tonight, I want to do that after this is all over. This is my way of making a promise to you.”

He nodded.

“Come on, melamin.” I pulled him towards the bed, pulling his clothes off all the while. He kissed me gently and pushed me back. His hands ran all along my body. I kissed his neck gently, trying my best to be intimate instead of rough.

His hands moved down and his fingers penetrated me. I gasped and moaned for a moment, then memories flooded back:

_“You’re so beautiful.” It was the fifth man that night. Minas Tirith was a busy city._

_He shoved me back on the bed and lifted my skirt. I spit on my fingers and wet myself before it happened._

_He undid his trousers and pulled his erection out. He immediately thrust inside me. I enjoyed it. Every moment._

I pushed Legolas off me. I could not think of those things with him. I held him by his throat and dragged my nails down his chest, nearly drawing blood.

His erection pressed between my legs. I rolled my hips over his pants. He groaned; his lips fell open and his eyes rolled back. I kissed my way down his chest, wanting to finish him off quickly before I made a very bad decision. He moaned as I took his entire length in my mouth. I sucked hard and fast, raking my nails along the inside of his thighs.

He came fast. I let his cum fall on his stomach, finishing him with my hand. I slapped his chest and laid on my stomach. “Now, put your clothes on before I make a very bad decision.”

He grabbed the rag from the bucket of water and cleaned himself off. “That bad decision sounds good to me.” He slid a hand over my backside and kissed my neck.

I flipped over and kissed him. I ran my hand along the lean muscles of his arms appreciatively. “We have to build up to that, Legolas. I keep remembering times from Minas Tirith.”

He froze.

“I don’t want to think of that when we finally do this.”

He nodded and kissed my cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Go to sleep, _melamin_.”


	3. To Pelennor

Chapter 3

I stood in the Great Hall with Legolas. We had been waiting for word from Gondor far too long.

We listened to Théoden discuss strategy with his generals. The doors busted open and Aragorn sprinted in. “The beacons of Minas Tirith! The beacons are lit!” He stopped in front of the king, “Gondor calls for aid!”

I smiled and hoped desperately that he would call for action.

Théoden hesitated for a moment, he looked around the room, “And Rohan will answer! Muster the Rohirrim!”

I ran out of the hall with Legolas and Aragorn and prepared to ride.

*          *          *

I rode out of the city next to Legolas and Gimli. They gave me a horse of one of the men that had died in Helm's Deep. One of the best he could get me, according to King Théoden. Iril, he was a large horse of brown color. He handled well.

“Horse men! I wish I could muster an army of Dwarves, fully armed and filthy,” Gimli growled.

“Your kinsmen may have no need to ride to war. I fear war already marches on their own lands,” Legolas said. Gimli grunted at Legolas's always-serious attitude.

“Filthy is a requirement?” I laughed at Gimli.

“I'd rather have them than you proper pointy-ears!” He grunted. I laughed loudly as we rode along.

*          *          *

I rode through the camp behind Théoden and Aragorn; Legolas, Gimli, and Théoden's generals rode next to me, followed by the rest of the army. The men stared at me as I rode by, wondering why a woman was riding with men of such esteem.

“Make way for the King! Make way, the King is here!” Men announced.

“Grimbold, how many?”

“I bring 500 men from the Westfold my lord.”

“We have 300 more from Fenmarch, Théoden King,” a soldier announced.

“Where are the riders from Snowbourn?” Théoden asked.

“None have come my lord.”

We followed Théoden up the steep path to our high encampment. After leaving my horse with the men, I walked through camp with Gimli and Legolas. The camp was completely silent except for the noises of the distressed horses. We walked up to Éomer who was carrying his things from his horse.

“The horses are restless and the men are quiet,” Legolas said to him.

 “They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain,” Éomer said.

“That road there where does that lead?” Gimli looked at a gap in the rocks.

“It is the road to the Dimholt, the door under the mountain,” Legolas explained.

I looked at it curiously, edging closer to it. “It sure is.” I smiled. Legolas grabbed my shoulder before I could get any closer.

 “None who venture there ever return. That mountain is evil,” Éomer said, walking away.

“Your curiosity will be the death of you,” Legolas scolded.

 “My curiosity is why I'm here,” I said following him. “Well, that and the dark lord wants to use me as a weapon and the only way I can free myself from his grasp is if the ring is destroyed,” I said casually.

 “Don't talk about it like that,” he whispered.

 “Like what?”

 “Like it barely affects you,” he turned to me.

I walked past him into my private tent, “It's not that bad.”

He followed me, shutting the flap behind him. “I see how it affects you. Do not try to hide it from me.”

 “Excuse you, but this is my tent so if you could just–” I pointed at the exit.

He sat down on the bed next to me. I pulled out my whetstone and began sharpening my knives.

“Rávawendë, I see how much pain you're in. Your eyes are darker, your skin is paler, you have dark circles around your eyes. Please, speak to me.” He placed a hand over mine, stopping me from sharpening.

 “His eye is not on me right now. I am fine.” I placed my knife to the side and laid my hands in my lap.

 “No you are not.” He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. His eyebrows were furrowed together worriedly. I looked at the skin in between his eyes blankly. I knew that if I looked into his eyes I would break down. He scanned my face for a moment before he sighed and stood up. He walked out after placing a small kiss on my forehead.

I stepped out of the tent into the dark camp, looking for fresh air and the sound of voices. My mind was slipping from me. I needed a distraction.

 “Rhava, would you like some food?” Éomer walked up to me with two bowls. I nodded, taking one from him. I had barely eaten the past couple of days. I sat with Éomer and Gamling around a campfire. I nearly swallowed my meal whole in two bites.

 “Hungry?” Éomer smirked at me.

 “Could you tell?” I laughed.

Merry exited a tent near me, followed by Éowyn. He was dressed in full armor; he swung his sword in the air as he walked.

To the smithy, go!” Éowyn shooed him.

 “You're getting pretty good, Merry.” I patted him on the shoulder as he walked by. He smiled widely.

“You should not encourage him.” Éomer turned to his sister.

“You should not doubt him.”

“I do not doubt his heart, only the reach of his arm.” Gamling laughed quietly at Éomer’s remark.

“Why should Merry be left behind? He has as much cause to go to war as you. Why can he not fight for those he loves?” Her face became serious.

 “You know as little of war as that Hobbit,” Éomer stood and walked towards his sister. “When the fear takes him and the blood and the screams and the horror of battle take hold. Do you think he would stand and fight? He would flee. And he would be right to do so. War is the province of men Éowyn.”

 “Ahem,” I said as he walked by me.

 “And Rhava.” He slapped my back. I smiled happily.

Gamling left after Éomer, leaving me alone with Éowyn.

 “So, I've heard that you're trained with a sword,” I smiled at her.

 “Yes, I've also heard that you're one of the best with a sword.” She sat down next to me.

 “I have trained for a very long time, much longer than anyone here.” I laughed.

 “Do you think that you could train me one day?” She looked at me curiously.

“I hope I can train you at both bow and sword.” I laughed. “Not until all of this is over, though.” I patted her shoulder.

 “Thank you, Rhava.” She smiled.

I walked to my tent and laid down, completely exhausted. I had forced myself to stay awake for far longer than even an elf could handle. Sleep took me in seconds.

 


	4. Calm Before the Storm

_I was standing in a field of barren, black land. Fire and ash covered the ground. I looked down; I was wearing all black. I wore a long cloak that fell past my knees in a layer of sheer fabric._

 “ _My darling.” I turned to face the voice. I recognized it, but I could not place it. A man stood in front of me. He had pale, gray skin and long black hair. His eyes were wan, surrounded by dark circles. He was beautiful, and terrifying._

_I took a step towards him. I was not in control. It was like I was a puppet._

 “ _My love,” I whispered, he took me in his arms and kissed me ferociously. His lips were cold and greedy._

 “ _Are you ready?” He asked me._

 “ _Yes, my love.”_

_“Kill the elf. Come to me.”_

_We turned. Two huge black doors were in front of us now. I turned around, orcs stood behind us, tens of thousands of them. I wanted to run. I could not move._

_I turned back to the man standing next to me. He wore an obsidian helmet. The rough metal stuck out in spikes at the top._

_He is in my head._

I shot up out of my bed screaming. I looked about the tent frantically. Two unfamiliar men stood inside, all looking at me worriedly.

 “Where is she?!” Legolas ran into the tent, panicking and shirtless. A man followed in after him. Legolas ran to the side of my bed. He grabbed my face and forced me to look at him.

 “We heard her screaming,” one man said.

 “Go,” Legolas commanded them without looking away from my face.

Gimli ran in swinging his ax. “Where is it?!”

 “It is fine, Gimli. Go back to the tent!” Legolas yelled.

 “I ran all the way over here, trying to keep up with you, to just be told that everything is fine?!” Gimli panted angrily on his way out.

Legolas wiped away my tears, “What happened?”

 “Nothing, I was just dreaming,” more tears fell on his hands.

 “It was more than that.” He sat on the bed.

I could not hide my fear any longer. Sobs racked my body. Legolas pulled me into a tight hug and let me cry. I held on to him tightly, my tears dripped down his skin. I cried until I could not feel anything. When I finished, he laid down in the bed next to me and held me against his chest.

 “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.

I shook my head, “It was nothing but a memory.”

He ran his fingers through my hair comfortingly. When I looked up to him, he was already staring into my eyes. His hair was unbraided; it fell across his shoulders and covered his ears freely. He leaned over and pecked my lips lightly. I sighed and laid my head on his chest. He ran his hand down to my waist; he grabbed the fabric there. “You fell asleep in your clothes?”

 “You fell asleep with no shirt on?” I countered.

“It is how I always sleep at home,” he sighed.

 “You want to know how I sleep at home? I don't have one–” he covered my mouth with his hand, expecting my sarcasm.

 “Consider Mirkwood your home then,” he whispered.

 “The elves are scared of me there.”

 “The elves are more scared of my father there.” He laughed. “Most of them do not even know who you are.”

 “I knew Thranduil when he was a child.” I scoffed. “He is not frightening.”

 “You are so old.” Legolas laughed. I ran my fingers up and down his chest, over the toned muscles. He shivered and whimpered a bit as I moved lower.

 “Yet, I'm seducing you,” I smirked at him.

He held the back of my neck and kissed me deeply. He put his weight on me as he pushed me back. His warm lips moved against mine slowly. The feeling was so different from my memory. Sauron's lips were cold and lewd; Legolas's felt warm and there was passion in his lips. I absorbed myself in the feeling, pushing the dream from my mind.

 “Still spry.” He smirked.

 “Shush.” I kissed him again.

He pulled away from me. “Gimli's coming.” He sat up in the bed next to me with his legs hanging off the sides. He covered his slight erection with the blankets. I listened carefully. I could hear Gimli grunting and stomping his way towards the tent. He walked in seconds later.

 “Laddie, you might want to put your clothes on, you'll want to see this,” he threw a shirt and jacket in Legolas's lap, along with his weapons. I sat up, fully dressed, and pulled on my boots. Legolas dressed himself and began to braid his hair.

I grabbed his hands and took the messy braid from him, “How do you ever do this alone?”

He grunted in response and let me fix the messy braids. I finished the braids over his ears and begun spinning the golden hair behind his head.

“Hurry up!” Gimli barreled past the flap of the tent, impatient as usual. He watched us curiously for a moment. “You act like you’re wed.” He left the tent again.

I could see the tips of Legolas's ears turn bright red. “Does he know anything about us?” he whispered.

 “No, Aragorn and Merry are the only ones that know; Gandalf is suspicious.” I finished the braid and patted him on his shoulders.

He stood and faced me, “When this is over, I want you to come back to Mirkwood with me.” He caressed my cheeks.

 “And I hope I will be able to.” I said, putting my hands over his. He swooped in and gave me a quick kiss on my lips before we left the tent. Gimli stood near the flap of the tent. He was staring at Aragorn, who was preparing to leave.

“I'll go get the horse.” Legolas walked away. Aragorn walked through the camp, passing us on the way.

 “Just where do you think you’re off to?” Gimli asked him.

“Not this time. This time you must stay Gimli,” he said.

“Hmm.” Gimli looked at him suspiciously.

Legolas walked to the other side of Aragorn, leading his horse, “Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?”

“You might as well accept it. We’re going with you, laddie,” Gimli said.

Aragorn looked at me. “You should stay here, Théoden will need another leader.”

I nodded. “I will represent the fellowship.”

Legolas walked to my side and spoke to me quietly, “Please be careful.” I nodded and pulled him in for a hug, keeping it friendly to keep the others from being suspicious. He kissed me on the cheek discreetly when we parted.

I followed them to the edge of camp and watched as the disappeared into the path in the rocks. I somewhat wished that I could go with them, out of my curiosity and natural recklessness, but I knew that I couldn't leave these people alone. Men stood around me, asking why they were leaving.

Gamling stepped forward. “He leaves because there is no hope.”

“He leaves because he must.” Théoden interrupted him.

“Too few have come. We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor,” he said to the king.

“No, we cannot. But we will meet them in battle nonetheless.” Théoden turned and left.

*          *          *

I sat around a fire with the men as I was unable to sleep. Éomer spoke quietly to me occasionally, but mostly there was frightened silence. I could not let my mind rest. I sharpened my knives and made arrows to keep my mind occupied.

Men yelled out near the pass. My heart leaped. I jumped up from my seat and ran towards the noise. My heart plummeted just as quickly. Men held Arod and Brego’s reins. The horses bucked fearfully.

“Arod.” I approached him apprehensively. His bucking settled to restless prancing. I stroked his snout to calm him and looked down the pass. Fog settled on the ground, disturbed only by the horses, there was no man, dwarf, or elf to be seen.

The one thing holding me to this life was at stake.

 

 

 


	5. Battle of Pelennor Fields

“Ride! Ride now to Gondor,” Théoden yelled.

I rode next to him with his generals. I wore no helmet, unlike the others, but I wore a chainmail shirt underneath my usual riding attire. We rode through swiftly, making few stops. Arod held strong.

Riding kept me focused. It distracted me from the thought of Legolas’s dead body in the passage.

*          *          *

The king slowed to a trot as we approached. We were close to Minas Tirith. The city was burning, raising smoke over the horizon. Rubble had fallen from the crushed buildings and orcs were rampaging. We stopped, the Rohirrim lined up behind us as we looked over the battlefield. It was the largest army I had ever seen, at least a couple hundred thousand orcs.

They blew the horn, announcing our arrival. I rode across the front, looking at the soldiers.

Théoden turned to his generals, “Éomer, take your Eored down the left flank Gamling, follow the King’s banner down the centre. Grimbold! Take your company right after you pass the wall. Forth and fear no darkness!” He turned to the soldiers, “Arise! Arise riders of Théoden. Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered, a sword day, a red day ere the sun rises!” The soldiers lowered their spears.

Anger surged through me, every one of these men had lost family in Helm's Deep, and I had lost my mentor. The fury built in every soldier as they looked upon the beasts whose only intention was to destruct and kill.

Théoden rode across the front line, behind me, and hit his sword on each of their spears. “Ride now, ride now! Ride! Ride for ruin and the world’s ending!” He stopped and turned to the men. “DEATH!”

“DEATH!” We yelled back. I never took my eyes off the orcs.

“DEATH!” Théoden repeated.

“DEATH!” The anger became more heated; I fed off the emotions of the others around me.

“DEATH!” Théoden yelled with us. “Forth Eorlingas!” The men sounded their horns. I began smiling wickedly at the victims before me.

We rode forward. The anger drowned out all other emotions and began to make me dizzy. We broke into a gallop. Arrows rained down upon us, taking many and leaving me alone with the generals at the front of the charge. As I approached the orcs before me, they began shuffling backwards. I stared at one orc. He stood frozen in fear, looking into my burning eyes. I broke through the line, trampling over the orc I chose. I swung my sword rapidly, cutting down the panicked orcs.

I lost myself in battle, swinging at the black heads without a thought. Arod took me exactly where I needed, happily running towards the thickest groups of orcs. It was the first time I truly enjoyed riding a horse during battle.

The orcs began fleeing, overwhelmed by the men. Just as soon as we rejoiced, a sudden, grave silence fell over us. I wondered what they feared until I felt it: a deep shuddering of the earth. I swung Arod around to where the men were looking.

The rumbling became rhythmic. Something was coming towards us. The mysterious beasts raised enough dirt in the air to disguise themselves. They were only few furlongs away from before I could distinguish their image: a line of Mûmakil trampled towards us. I stared in pure amazement as they came closer. The men around me looked for a place to flee.

“Re-form the line! Re-form the line!” Théoden ordered.

I took my place on the front line with the other men. I was unsure how we were to fight such enormous beasts. They looked around uncertainly. “Do not let fear take you!” I yelled at them. “For you will die whether you flee or charge,” I added in a quiet voice.

 “Sound the charge. Take them head-on. CHARGE!” Théoden yelled. The horn blew and we galloped towards the Mûmakil. The ride was less confident, and it was out downfall.

The beasts swiped their tusks, casting men and horses into the paths of the others and spreading the sickening sounds of bones cracking and men screaming with every swing.  The ground shook as they neared. I pulled to the left hard as a tusk nearly hit me. I realized quickly that they would not be able to take them down alone; the beasts knocked them down with terrible ease.

I jerked Arod’s reins to run between the front feet of a Mûmakil. I held my sword in both hands and cut at the straps holding the saddle-like construction violently. The saddle fell to the side and hit the ground with a deafening crash, pulling the men and the roaring Mûmakil down.

Arod bucked violently underneath me as I thought I made my way safely out from under the beast. I hurtled to the ground. Nazgûl circled around in the sky above me and one landed close. I stood quickly, seeing the orcs coming near me. I drew my long knives. There was a darkness compelling me to the Nazgûl. I closed my eyes and screamed, pulling myself into reality.

Orcs attacked me from all sides. I violently hacked at them, partially severing their body parts. I fell into my stupor, detaching my mind from my body. I chased fleeing orcs to satiate my hunger. A cloud of green had covered the fields, but I did not stop.

One of them grabbed my shoulder. I grasped the foe's wrist and threw it to the ground. I placed my foot on its stomach and held one of my knives to its throat. Something stopped me from ending it. I looked into the eyes, slowly rousing from my violent delusion. He stared back at me, fright in his light blue eyes. The knife fell from my hand and landed next to his head. Exhaustion dampened my thoughts. I fell to my knees, clutching my head.

 “You need to keep control.” Legolas handed me my knife and yanked me to my feet. Someone was calling his name. “Now go!” He shoved me back into battle. Exasperation covered his face. It hurt more than if he were simply angry with me.

In a daze, I stood overlooking the field. The green cloud was rapidly covering the orcs. They were men, or the remains of men. It was the Dead Army. I looked around languorously, attempting to find a threat. I could see none, but in my stomach I could feel foreboding danger. I was walking blindly, going where my legs told me, when everything went black.


	6. The Woman

_Legolas_

I searched the field for Rávawendë. I had not seen her since she attacked me. I expected her to be near, too afraid to approach me since I snapped at her, but waiting at a distance. I walked through the hewn bodies towards the place I had last seen her – in the same spot she attacked me.

I walked faster, examining the ground and hoping not to see her white hair in the piles of carcasses. A golden shimmer in the distance caught my eye. I ran over to it, pushing an orc corpse away. Two knives laid on top of each other, glinting in the sunlight. I lifted them shakily.

“No!” I yelled loudly. I held the knives against my pounding heart, hoping they would cease the crushing feeling in my chest. “No! No! No!” I repeated, yelling louder each time.

“What's happening?” Aragorn ran to me. He peeled my hands away from my chest, making me drop her knives onto the ground. He stroked the golden hilt of the knives lightly. “Where is she?” He stood up and scanned the fields.

I felt it in my heart. I knew that she was not here.

“She is not here,” Gandalf said. “She has been taken by the Enemy.”

A caustic cackle brought a chill to my heart. It was Her voice; it was not her. “The Enemy? That is a new one,” a cold voice mused.

A bolt of bright light flashed above my field of vision. I did not want to look at Her. In a flash, I was standing with my back against the Woman. One of Her hands held a dagger at my throat; the other held my waist. “Not so fast, my love, or I will kill this one.” Her breath was ice on the back of my neck. Even the touch of her hand chilled me to the bone. When she tightened her grip, I felt the chill to the deepest parts of my body.

Aragorn stood with his hand on the hilt of his sword, staring at her in pure hatred. Gimli gripped his axe and growled. Gandalf held his staff in the same place from where he shot at her.

“I have been docile for three thousand years. It would be my greatest pleasure to snap his neck – perhaps even as a celebration.” She jerked my head back by a handful of hair.

I whimpered quietly, determined to keep anyone from making heedless attempts to save my life. “Please, Rávawendë,” I whispered.

“I am not your little Rávawendë,” she sneered. “I finally managed to dominate the _bitch_. I have no name.”

Anger surged, but I was not senseless enough to retaliate in my position. Aragorn slowly slid his sword from its scabbard. “The Woman of Mordor,” he snarled.

“A mere title.” She giggled. “No, no, no,” she clucked at Aragorn. She drew her knife across my throat slowly, matching Aragorn’s speed of hand. My throat stung; blood trickled down and soaked the neck of my shirt. “I would not want to hurt such a handsome elf. He has been brilliant for exerting my… _energy_.”

“Put him down, Aëla,” Gandalf commanded.

“Do not use that tongue,” her voice transformed from the womanly, false nobility to a near roar. “ _I have no name_ ,” she snarled. She chuckled, her voice returned to normal. She took her knife away from my neck and waved it around as she spoke “I apologize. I get quite annoyed when called by that _hideous_ name.”

Aragorn unsheathed his sword swiftly while the blade was away from my neck. “Let him go.”

“Oh, love, _are you that daft_? I do not need a knife to hurt someone.” She raised a hand in front of me and squeezed it in a fist. Pain seared from my heart, moving slowly through every limb of my body. It was like a cold fire. My chest constricted. I fell to the ground with a strangled groan.

“Stop!” Aragorn yelled.

“I will stop only if the wizard lets me go.”

“You are free to leave,” Gandalf said.

The pain receded, leaving me in a sweaty, bloody, panting mess. She dropped to her knees next to me. I backed away, expecting more torture. She grabbed my jacket and pulled me up to face her. Her eyes traveled from my chest to my legs and back to my chest. The blood loss made me weak. It dripped down the front of my jacket.

“The things I would do to this body now that all of that _virtue_ mess is out of my way.” She glanced down at the cut on my neck and did the unthinkable: She pulled me up and _licked_ the wound. Ice traveled through my veins, starting at the wound. “Did I take your breath away, Legolas?” She smirked.

I was frozen in her hands. She kissed me roughly, shoving her tongue in my mouth. She stopped suddenly and looked me in the eyes. Flames licked at her pupils, holding a dark black sitting behind the blue and orange fires.

“Why don’t you kiss me back, darling? You will not get back your precious elf.” The flames subsided and pulled me in. I only wanted to kiss her. I would have walked into battle unarmed to do so. Her lips were hot against mine for a moment; and then she disappeared.

I curled up in a ball shivering as I realized what happened. Her lips were cold; they sucked the warmth from my body. Aragorn dropped to my side. “Let me see your wound,” he pushed me over.

“Leave it. It is gone.” Gandalf said. “Get him inside; she is freezing to the touch.”

I could not walk. My legs shook violently underneath me when I tried. “Carry him!” Gandalf ordered. “She could come back.”

Another man held up my other side. As they walked me up the steps over carcasses and rubble, Gandalf collected what people he could, barking orders. “Boil water, immediately.”

“What did she do to me?” I asked. It was barely comprehensible; I was shaking terribly.

“The Woman of Mordor can bid others to do as she wishes,” Gandalf answered, “even if it is against their own will.”

“The Woman of Mordor?” Gimli asked. “I have heard legends. I did not think them true. Let alone believe that it was Rhava.”

“It is not Rhava,” I stammered. “The Woman possesses her body.”

“Yes, that is true. Rávawendë fought her in battle. She became defenseless when her Master was defeated. She found refuge in the body of her last victim. She chose the body of royalty, someone deeply loved: the sister to the great Ñoldor King Gil-Galad. She will have no need for Rávawendë’s body soon,” Gandalf said.

“What will she do with her body?” I asked angrily. I knew the answer.

“My lord!” A servant called from a nearby building. The door was broken open, torn halfway off its hinges. Carcasses were piled off to the side.  The men were attempting to clean the rubble. Aragorn dismissed the other man and picked me up by himself. The inside of the building was a bathhouse. One of the stone baths was full of steaming water.

Aragorn put me down on a wooden bench and undid the belt around my hips. I stopped him. “I can do it myself.” I tremored violently undoing my jacket. Aragorn hurriedly undid the ties on my armor and pulled off my boots. I glared at him as he did it. I did not enjoy feeling like a child, and I wanted the feeling of Rávawendë’s hands to stay as long as I could manage to keep it. Although all I could remember then was the freezing touch of the Woman.

“ _Legolas, lye anta urna lle_ ,” (Legolas, we need to warm you.) he said desperately. I allowed him to pull off my pants with an angry huff, as I was growing too weak to care. He picked me up and lowered me in the steaming water slowly. My skin prickled and burned. I shook so violently that water splashed out of the tub and soaked the floor all around me. I needed out. Aragorn caught my shoulders and held me down. I dug my nails in his arms and cursed at him loudly.

“You curse like an elf.” He laughed. “Are all Elves hairless from the neck down?” he asked looking into the water.

I shoved him away from me and sunk lower in the water. As the atmosphere calmed, comprehension came to me. I rested my head on the back of the stone bathtub to keep my tears from spilling over.

“I am sorry, _mellon_.” He squeezed my shoulder. “I know that you loved her.”

Gimli looked surprised, but he kept quiet under the circumstances. I wished she was there to see his reaction.

“The king will sleep tonight. We will convene in the morning,” he said. “We must decide our plan of action.”

“We have a new enemy,” Gimli stated sadly.

“She is occupying the body of our friend,” Aragorn said. “And she’s Legolas’s –”

“Betrothed,” I finished for him, holding a shaky hand over my eyes. “She can heal, kill with one motion, force others to do her bidding, and she is fast – and I will not let any of you kill her if she is occupying Rávawendë’s body.”

Gandalf sighed. “She cannot be killed by just anyone. She will fall from power with Sauron. They are wed.”

“ _Mani?_ ” (what) I snapped, sitting up. A wave of water splashed on the floor.

Aragorn pushed me down. “ _Naa torso seere_.” (be at peace)

“She has many secrets, young Legolas. Her spirit is entangled with the Woman’s. She is strong, but it has corrupted her in ways you cannot imagine. Even if she does survive this, she will likely not remember the past three thousand years. She will not be who you think she is now. She will be the High Princess of the Ñoldor, the almost-Queen of the Woodland Realm, the Light of Lindon. She was known for being wild, but pure and virtuous: the gem of her lineage.” Gandalf sighed and gazed out of the small, high window. “She would have taken the title of High Queen of the Ñoldor if she survived the battle, if they would have let her.”

“And I will love her the same,” I stated.

Gandalf sighed. “Yes, but will she love you? Will she even know you?”

“I thought only men could rule the Ñoldor,” Aragorn stated.

“Only men took the role,” Gandalf explained. “Elves are not so attached to traditions regarding gender.”

“So, she is beyond the Prince of the Woodland Realm?” I asked bitterly.

“Her brother believed so, as I have learned from your father,” Gandalf explained tenderly. “What I am saying is what you have seen of Rhava is something far less noble than she truly is. Rávawendë was called wild for her refusal to obey the rules of her family to marry your father, not for gallivanting the plains of Middle-Earth starting fights with strangers and behaving obscenely.”

“I don’t understand your attraction to her, Legolas,” Gimli grunted rudely.

Aragorn answered, “She is mysterious and violent. You have been attracted to intense women as long as I have known you, _mellon_.”

I rubbed my head with a groan. I did not want the others to know her relations with my own father, nor her activities before our journey began. All I desired was to march on the Black Gate and take her back. I took a towel from the table next to the bathtub and wrapped it around my hips. “Will I have a place to rest tonight?”

Aragorn gave me my shirt and trousers. “I will find you one, _mellon_.”

He spoke quietly to the woman who showed us in here as I pulled on my trousers and shirt. I did not care about decency.

“Come along.” He pulled me out of the building. There was still a deep chill in my bones, but I did not care. Nothing could warm that feeling.

I walked to the bedroom numbly. Aragorn left me alone with the servant in the middle of the journey. A man pulled him away muttering something about Éowyn.

I fell into the bed and pulled of my trousers. I thought about the way she did it to me the night she threw me on the bed; it was fogged by the memory of Aragorn doing so. I pulled the silk sheets over myself and remembered the belt she tied around my wrists. I remembered the first time she touched me, kissing her way down my chest and sucking my erection.

And I thought, perhaps my love for her _was_ only physical.

Then, I remembered the first time I met her. She held me at the point of her arrow as she questioned me for a long while. She looked insane, and I wanted to kiss her, even with my first love, Tauriel, standing right behind her. I remembered how she made my father jump; I had never seen anyone accomplish such a task. I remembered the piles of arrows she made when she was nervous or bored, battling her with stick swords to prove my superiority in battle, the way she boldly told me in front of an entire army of elves the way she wanted to have me, and the way she tried to push me away, but could not.

My chest ached. I could not stand this feeling. I curled up and sobbed, willing it to go away.

*          *          *

We stood in the Great Hall of Minas Tirith. I had forced back the crushing agony in my chest. I stood, attempting to listen to their plans.

“Frodo has passed beyond my sight. The darkness is deepening.” Gandalf said, walking across the floor.

“If Sauron had the Ring we would know it,” Aragorn pointed out.

Gandalf said, “It’s only a matter of time. He has suffered a defeat, yes, but behind the walls of Mordor our enemy is regrouping. In his defeat he gained one of his strongest weapons.”

“Let him stay there! Let him rot! Why should we care?” grunted Gimli. I breathed deeply, attempting to keep myself calm.

“Because ten thousand Orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom.” Gandalf said.

“And Rávawendë is stuck there, likely being tortured,” I added solemnly.

Gandalf ignored me. “I’ve sent him to his death.”

Aragorn grabbed Gandalf's shoulder. “No. There is still hope for Frodo. He needs time and safe passage across the plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that. “

“How?” Gimli grunted.

Aragorn turned to him. “Draw out Sauron’s armies. Empty his lands. Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate.”

“We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms,” Éomer said. He was feeling the weight of the loss of one of his best friends and possibly his own sister – and I would take his pain over mine any day.

“Not for ourselves. But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron’s eye fixed upon us. Keep him blind to all else that moves.”

“A diversion.” I said calmly. I rejoiced internally for the distant hope of finding Rávawendë.

Gimli looked at us. “Certainty of death, small chance of success, what are we waiting for?”

Gandalf spoke quietly to Aragorn. “Sauron will suspect a trap. He will not take the bait.”

“Oh, I think he will.” Aragorn smirked.

 “If this plan does work, we must be prepared.” He looked at me. “Rávawendë will not be the same person we once knew, and she will likely be leading the army. If you believe she is terrifying in battle, you have not seen her command. She could defeat us commanding an army half the size of our own. We must be prepared to apprehend her.”

“That is no small task,” Éomer said. “I doubt any of us could defeat her.”

“I do not believe any of us could,” Gandalf said. “We must not fear to injure her. She will heal quickly. Legolas, if she has a weakness it will be you. If you can kill her, you mustn’t hesitate.”

Aragorn looked at me uncertainly. It only seemed appropriate that I would be the one to do it, considering taking her life would rob me of mine. I nodded.

 “So be it,” Gandalf looked to me. “Legolas, you mustn't hesitate under _any_ circumstances. She will take advantage of your apprehension,” he said again.

“I understand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated the first chapter. I made it a lot darker and more sadistic. Better intro as well. Still needs editing tho. The entire thing does tbh.


	7. The End

_Legolas_

The army marched upon the Black Gate. I rode at the head with Aragorn, Gandalf, Éomer, and a Gondorian soldier. The Black Gate sucked in all light, leaving us alone in its cold, dead, dark presence. I laid a shaky hand on my bow. I would not be able to kill her. I only hoped she would kill me first.

Gimli squeezed my shoulder from his spot behind me. “You can do it, laddie.”

“No, I cannot,” I whispered quietly enough that the ears of a dwarf would not detect.

“Where are they?” asked Pippin.

Aragorn looked towards me uncertainly. I nodded. He pushed his horse towards the doors; we followed. Aragorn examined the gates as we came to a stop. There was no movement or sound from behind them, not even a breath.

Aragorn yelled up to the nefarious walls. “Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Let justice be done upon him!”

The doors creaked open with a massive groan. I pulled back the reins as a dark figure rode through the small opening. I peered beyond the horse and rider, attempting to catch sight of her. Foggy mist disguised whatever lay beyond him.

“My master Sauron the Great bids thee welcome.” The rider hissed. “Is there any in this rout with authority to treat with me?” His lips were cracked open, revealing sharp teeth covered in black blood with every word. He had no eyes; they were covered by an iron helmet that stuck in violent spikes at the top.

Gandalf spoke, “We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed. Tell your master this. The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return.”

The rider smiled hideously. “Aha! Old Greybeard! I have a token I was bidden to show thee.” He held up an object of pearl-like radiance: a shirt of mithril that was owned by Frodo.

“Frodo!” Pippin yelled.

The vile creature threw it to Gandalf.

“No!” Merry yelled.

I cursed quietly as tears formed in my eyes. A simple Hobbit forced into the thick of the war and tortured. There was no hope without him. I would have to kill her or let her destroy my dear friends: those I had sworn an oath to.

“The Halfling was dear to thee I see. Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would’ve thought one so small could endure so much pain? And he did Gandalf, he did.”

I breathed deeply and glared at the thing. He turned to me; it seemed as if he could hear my hatred.

“And I'm sure you're also here for the Master's prize? Oh yes, he had much fun with her. She mentioned a lover. The Master was not very happy with that, it seems as if she has not been faithful to Him. Such a pretty, little thing. The spirit of the elf is strong. She fought so hard to defeat the Woman, but she is ours again.”

Aragorn rode in front of the thing, breaking my sight of him. He watched Aragorn as he approached him. “And who is this? Isildur’s heir? It takes more to make a King than a broken Elvish blade.”

He swung his blade suddenly. The head of the thing rolled from its wretched shoulders and dropped to the ground.

Gimli grunted. “I guess that concludes negotiations.”

“I do not believe it. I will not!” Aragorn said turning to us.

The gates creaked open.

Aragorn glanced behind him and gestured forward. “Pull back! Pull back!” We galloped to our army.

When I turned, she was there. It was only her. She had a boot on the head of the thing Aragorn decapitated. “Cannot say I’m surprised. The mouth always spoke too much,” she mused. It was Rávawendë; the Woman had not abandoned her vessel. She wore a curious choice for battle: a black dress, but she had her quiver and her bow. I kept her knives in my saddlebags. They were retrieved from the field after I was carried from it.

I dismounted from Arod, leaving only Gimli on his back. I reached behind my head and put a hand on the hilt of my knife defensively. A cloud of black smoke shot across the field like a ghost, and her face was inches from mine. “Miss me?” She smirked.

I pulled a knife and swiped at her. I knew she would get away. A shadow flashed across the field, and she stood far away from me again.

“Can we not be civilized?” she asked with a smile. “I know I said you would never see this body again,” she said as she moved back the material of the high slit in her black dress, “but I’ve grown to like it. It’s… _sexy_.

“But I suppose, for the celebration of my imminent victory, I will allow you to have the elf.” She flashed to me again. Her face pulled in a nasty scowl and she growled close to my face, “ _So you can watch her die_.”

As I watched, thick, black smoke seeped from her body, pouring out of her mouth, her pores, and her eyes. It dropped heavily to the ground and moved upwards behind Rávawendë’s body. Rávawendë fell against me limply. I caught her waist and lowered her to the ground gently. She did not shiver, she did not breathe, she did not move at all. She was dead.

A gray hand touched her forehead. The Woman of Mordor knelt before me. By the looks of it, she was no taller than any man in our army. Or perhaps she was and she used her chosen height to deceive her victims. “I may have killed her a few times,” she laughed awkwardly. “I’ll fix that.”

Her hair was black; her skin gray; her eyes were on fire and her skin was ice. And the most shocking thing about her was her sickeningly casual disposition. As she touched her forehead, Rávawendë gasped to life.

She gulped for air and looked around frantically. “Rávawendë?” I stroked her cheek.

Her eyes paused on my face. “Who are you?” she asked.

I pulled my hand away. It was like a stab in my heart.

“Yeah,” the Woman sighed. “She probably doesn’t remember the past –” she counted on her skinny, claw-like fingers, “– three thousand years.”

Rávawendë crawled against me fearfully at the sight of the Woman, but she did not scream.

The Woman sighed with a smile at Rávawendë. “Oh, well. Bye,” she shot through the opening in the gates.

I helped her to her feet. She still looked around disconcertedly.

Gandalf dismounted and outreached his hand to lay two fingers on her forehead. She caught his wrist. “Who are you?”

He smiled. “My dear Rávawendë, I am one of the five Istari sent here to fight the power of Sauron. I am the Maiar called Olórin. I can help you remember.”

She let go of his wrist apprehensively. When he pressed his fingers to her forehead, she nearly fell to the ground. I caught her by her elbows and held her up. She gasped for breath and looked at Gandalf.

“My brother…” she trailed off. She looked up to the Eye, which scanned the field from its high tower. Either she did not remember the most recent events, or she did not care. I did not feel anger for it; she could not care for the love of a silly, young elf.

She gulped and nodded. There was no time for grief.

“I have your knives.” I pulled them from Arod’s saddlebags.

She took them from my hands. “These are different than what I remember. How many years did I miss? Three thousand, she said?” She groaned and rubbed her forehead.

“Yes,” Gandalf answered. “This is Aragorn, heir of Isildur, and the one behind you is Legolas, son of Thranduil.”

She spun around to look at me as Gandalf continued speaking. There was deep pain and betrayal in her eyes, but she smiled. Her skin glowed a pearl color, her eyes a bright silver, the same as her hair. She looked like pure starlight. It was as if every darkness was cleansed from her body.

“This is a diversion,” Gandalf said quietly. “The Ring may be on its path to where it was created.”

The gates groaned open, leaving no more time for speaking. I helped Gimli down from Arod’s back and slapped him on the back. “ _Auta!_ ” (Go) I yelled, sending Arod to safety.

When I looked towards the gate, there were hundreds of orcs through the gate.

“Hold your ground! Hold your ground!” Aragorn pulled Brego to face the frightened men. “Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers. I see it in your eyes, the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day! An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the age of men comes crashing down, but it is not this day! This day we fight!”

My heart pounded in my throat.

“By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand! Men of the West!” Steel rang out across the field as the men pulled their swords.

Rávawendë looked at me as she sheathed her knives and pulled her bow. “You look like your father. I hope you fight like your mother.”

“I do.” I smiled sadly. “According to you.”

“My head hurts.” She whimpered suddenly and her eyes filled with tears. “What am I wearing?” She pulled at the black dress.

“I believe the Woman wanted to expose you,” I said.

She smiled through the tears. “Sounds like something she would do.”

Aragorn dismounted and led Brego to us. “Rávawendë, take Brego and run. You are in no state to fight.”

She nodded and took the reins from his hands.

 

_Rávawendë_

Thranduil’s son gaped at me as I took the reins and walked away. I quickly let go of the reins, slapped the brown horse on the back, and said, “ _Auta!_ ” (Go)

I turned back to the man, Aragorn. “Now I am trapped here.”

I found a spot next to Thranduil’s son.

“Never thought I’d die fighting side by side with an elf,” a dwarf grunted.

 Thranduil’s son looked down at him and smiled. “What about side by side with a friend?”

The dwarf smiled. “Aye! I could do that.”

I noticed two tiny men standing near the dwarf. “Hobbits in battle? It is strange times.”

“Yes, it is,” Legolas sighed. He put a hand on my waist – in a quite intimate fashion – and faced me. “I know you do not remember, but…” He sighed shakily and gently kissed my forehead.

I gasped in shock, but his intimacy felt so familiar from his side that I wondered what happened over the past year, then I remembered what the Woman was like, and thought better than to think on it.

He dipped his head as the general overlooked the scene of the orcs that surrounded us. I did not stop Legolas when his lips pressed against my own; I only let him. I did not want to stop, but I had to. I could not betray his father like this. He stroked my cheek; I pulled away.

“I am sorry,” he whispered, “but before she left your body, we–”

“I do not want to know what I did,” I whispered gently. I caressed his cheek as tears formed in his eyes. “Whatever happens in the future is all that matters. You obviously love like your father, now prove to me that you fight like your mother.” I kissed his cheek and patted his chest before I turned away.

Aragorn made his way towards the other side. I loaded my bow.

Tears were swimming in his eyes when turned to us. “For Frodo,” he whispered.

I had no idea who Frodo was, but he sounded important. So, as he held up his sword and charged at the opposition alone, I ran with him – after the two hobbits who charged first.

She was there. I was not her target. She wanted the man, Aragorn. I would not let her have him; she would not win this fight. I fired my first arrow at her. She did not see it coming; it stuck in her shoulder, but as she pulled it out, blackened with thick blood, she simply scowled and found me in the army.

Her appearance warped in thick, black smoke, and she shot towards me, weaving through the men and orcs. I pulled my knives. She materialized behind me and hissed in my ear, “I underestimated the wizard.” I spun around and missed her. She appeared behind me again. “I thought I would leave you a babbling, miserable mess.”

“The wizard refreshed my memory; he told me some interesting things.” I attacked again; I missed her again.

She materialized to my left. “He told me about my brother, everything that occurred after the battle.” Attack; miss. “But, nothing more. You underestimated _me_.”

A loud screech distracted the both of us. Dark beasts circled in the air above us, bearing even darker riders: Ringwraiths. They would slaughter us. Then, I saw the source of the screech: an eagle intercepted one of the Ringwraiths, clawing with its talons.

“The eagles!” I heard a hobbit over the roar of battle. “The eagles are coming!”

I turned and smirked at the Woman, who was staring fearfully at the sky. She growled at me and made a fist. Fire ran through my veins. I screeched in pain.

“You’re strong,” she mused. “Legolas could not handle much. How about a little more?” She closed her other fist.

I fell to the ground gasping and shrieking. I could not breathe; I could not move. My heart froze and ice began to move outwards.

“Rávawendë!” I watched as Legolas struggled against the others to get to me.

“I told you he would watch you die,” she snarled. “He was supposed to be your child, and look what happened, you fell in love with him. That was not me, sweetheart.”

I looked out to Legolas, who was still furiously shoving through.

Her eyes darted towards the gates, lessening the pain with her distraction. The Ringwraiths turned with her, flying towards whatever beckoned them.

But, as a screech came from the tower, and the others began chanting the same name Aragorn fought for, I laughed through the pain. It was over; it was supposed to be over. I believed this as I watched the orcs flee in fear as their master’s tower crumbled with the rest of Mordor.

Hopelessness and realization filled her eyes as she looked upon the mountain. For a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of virtue in her fiery eyes, dark hair, and grey skin, but then she looked upon me with the same eyes I saw three thousand years ago.

She looked furiously upon me as I laughed. Legolas was looking upon the mountain. “He’s looking away.” I cackled. “Bitch.” She snapped her fingers. There was a scream, and everything was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not really the end. sequel coming up.


End file.
